Giving In
by Strange and Intoxicating -rsa
Summary: Yuri! On Ice Vikturi That moment on the beach, the soft sound of the world ending and another beginning-that was the moment that Viktor knew, deep inside where soft flesh met hard muscle met heart, that he had given in.


Giving In

By: Strange and Intoxicating -rsa-

Summary: Viktor and Yuri give in.

Warning: None. Yeah. It is just cute.

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That moment on the beach, the soft sound of the world ending and another beginning-that was the moment that Viktor knew, deep inside where soft flesh met hard muscle met heart, that he had given in.

Giving in always sounded weak to others; it was not something Viktor allowed himself to do in any other circumstance. The championships, the trophies, the platitudes and promises of love and devotion... none of that mattered. In the heat of the moment when his skates met ice and his heart was free, he gave in to everything. It was the only moment where past and future meant nothing and the only thing that felt right was the bend of his knees and the wind whipping at his face.

He had known that he was losing himself, had known from the moment he saw that video. He had known Yuri Katsuki as just another face in the crowd until he wasn't. There it was, the freedom that he knew, the freedom of falling through the air with nothing but ice and steel below him.

The last year had been painful; he did not talk about how his knees would crack in the morning or how he had long ago lost the sensation in a few of his toes. Not all of them, just a few... and with every injury, with every whisper at every competition, they had begun to chip away at his safety, his comfort, his joy of giving up and allowing the coldness to carry him.

But there Yuri was, begging him to stay who he was, to not dare change to accommodate his needs, and it was like the air in his lungs the first time he had made a jump, the first time he had allowed his knees to click together as he skated around and around, feet knowing where they needed to go when he closed his eyes.

Viktor was born to be on the ice.

Viktor was born to be with Yuri.

And it had taken that moment where the beach met the ocean where he had asked so candidly a question he feared and loathed and cherished at the same moment. Part of him hoped that Yuri would say yes, but more of him wanted him to say no; he needed that no. It was too simple, too paltry. Lover? If Yuri needed him to be a lover, he would have obliged. But what Yuri wanted was even better.

Yuri wanted him.

Not a role, not a part to play. Not a lover.

Him.

He knew when Yuri snuck into his room that night, holding out the earphones and smiling like the world would breathe new life into the day, that this was the moment where things were different.

He let himself give in.

"I think it is perfect, Yuri." Viktor smiled and nodded his head to the music, listening and watching Yuri smile in a way that spoke volumes above words. Yuri was shy, unsure of his words the same way Viktor often felt. They were two birds, never singing the tune of their mothers but singing that of another. Yet, in those words was soul and passion.

The other man curled one hand in Makkachin's fur, the other one resting on the bed next to Viktor's. "You think so?" His dark brown eyes were wide, hopeful, the excitement brimming over. This was the Yuri behind the shell, behind all of the fear and doubts.

Viktor smiled and pulled out the earphones and unplugged them from the computer, tossing them on the floor next to the bed. He clicked the repeat button and allowed the music to gently sway through the room. This was St. Petersburg and he was six, not even the nip of cold against his skin making him want to stop.

He wanted to give in then, he wanted it. More than anything, more than skating, more than breathing.

He wanted it.

So he reached forward.

Yuri's hand was soft and inviting, and it reminded him of no hand he had ever felt before. He had touched Yuri's hands so many times before this moment, but he had been bound to something he could not explain... this was simply for the joy of smooth skin and the feeling of the pulse as the man's heart sped up. Viktor could hear it, sense it, and he wanted to let it swallow him whole.

"V...Viktor..." Yuri whispered as Viktor raised the hand to his mouth, letting butterfly kisses trace down to the crook of his elbow, allowing every inch of skin to meet his mouth. "What... wha...you doing?"

Viktor looked into Yuri's wide eyes, the pink staining his cheeks such a color that Viktor couldn't stop himself from smiling wide at the look. "Tell me to stop."

Yuri's eyes went wider. "Wh-what?"

Viktor allowed his head to rest against the crook of Yuri's arm, allowing his hand to lace through with Yuri's. "Tell me to stop, and I will."

Yuri swallowed and it made it so much harder for Viktor to think of pulling away his hand, pulling away from Yuri. Yuri was everything, the sweet reminder of life that he had waited for. Yuri was the water, Yuri was the ice and the wind and the sun.

"Viktor..." Yuri gently pulled his hand away from Makkachin, allowing his own hand to rest on Viktor's head. "What... What if..."

Viktor looked into Yuri's eyes. "I will follow you, Yuri. I promise this." He wanted to reach out and grab the black-haired man and pull him down for a kiss. He wanted to lay him across his sheets and kiss every inch of skin and muscle, every bruise and scar. Viktor wanted to fall down with Yuri surrounding every piece of him. He had never felt something like this before, like floating without a life jacket. "Tell me to stop, and I will."

It had to be Yuri. It was Yuri's choice, because Viktor could drown; he had given in before. But Yuri, sweet Yuri... he needed to know the fall, the feeling of air rushing through lungs and the fear and excitement and joy.

And Yuri jumped.

It was a soft kiss, one that reminded Viktor so keenly that Yuri's body had never been touched before, not like this. His hands found themselves not knowing what to do, and so Viktor allowed one hand to stay intertwined with his, and he guided the other to his chest. He allowed Yuri to splay his fingers against his chest, letting the other man figure it out on his own.

Viktor was in no rush. He could never rush this, whatever this was he was diving head first into. He did not need air; Yuri was his air.

The kisses were sweet and soft, and so unsure that it made Viktor ache, because to know that no one had ever been this close was a sweetest paradise. Yuri had chosen him, that the mouth hesitantly nudging against his had made its decision.

But Viktor did not want pressure; the act of jumping for the first time into the abyss, that was enough to give even the strongest of hearts a need for a pause.

He enjoyed every hesitant and gentle move, never commenting or forcing, only allowing Yuri to go at his own pace. When he was ready to come back for air, Viktor could only rest his forehead against Yuri's. He would have given any lover, all of his lovers, any future lover, to be able to fall into the bliss again. He took a deep, gulping breath and reminded himself that Yuri was skittish, that this could be too much for the other man.

And Viktor could feel relief in every fibre of his being when the black-haired skater only blinked owlishly at him, his cheeks redder than a tomato. His lips were parted and they were trembling, moisture from their kiss spread across the corner of his lips like the top of the ice moved in friction to his blade.

"I think... can I stay here? Tonight... with you?"

Viktor looked at Yuri, the way his body trembled and he wanted this.

"I mean... I just want to... hold you? Oh, forget it, I am so sorry I-"

But Viktor could only smile and nod his head, letting his fingers part from Yuri's. "You didn't even need to ask."

They slept that night, curled in the warm embrace of sheets, long after Viktor had taught himself every curve of lips and tongue and teeth Yuri had to offer. He wanted more, but was happy with the small pieces he was given.

The next day, when he asked for the inspiration, Yuri declared it...

"The theme is 'On my love.'" His cheeks were redder than his lips were the night before, and Viktor felt the cool air on his cheeks.

He was giving in.

"The best theme. It's perfect."

This was giving in.

And Yuri wanted it, too.

Giving in had never been so perfect.

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